


getting better

by Kit_Kat21



Series: Beatles Tribute [24]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-20 04:21:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20669243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kit_Kat21/pseuds/Kit_Kat21
Summary: “You are safe and you are loved,” Eleanor says on repeat as she helps Sansa tap her fingers. “You are safe and you are loved.”“Hi, daddy. This is Julia,” Julia says into the phone as if Jon would have no idea which daughter this is. “We’re at Target and mama’s having a hard time breathing. Eleanor’s helping her with her fingers.” Julia stops to listen to whatever Jon is saying from the other end of the phone.





	getting better

**Author's Note:**

> "Getting Better" was written by Paul McCartney and was on the _Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band_ album. John Lennon added a few of his own lyrics in. It's a popular song that shows Paul's optimism countered by John's negativity, which shows the personality differences of the two perfectly.

…

By the time they had their fourth child, Julia, Sansa and Jon decided that it would be best if they joined Costco because running to the store every week for toilet paper or fabric softener just wasn’t working. They go on a Costco run every month, stocking up on everything a family of six needs; and goes through like water.

But sometimes, they don’t _need_ twelve cans of baked beans and sometimes, Sansa wants to buy the kids socks that don’t come in a surplus pack from the warehouse store. Sometimes, she just wants to go on a Target run and buy certain things that don’t come in a box of twenty of something. Sometimes, she wants a variety of soups or scented hand-soaps.

It’s not the most exciting errand with their mom, she knows, but the girls always enjoy the Target runs with Sansa nonetheless; especially when it can be just the three of them.

“Girl time,” Eleanor always says with a smile and Sansa always smiles at that as well.

Sansa always pushes the cart, Eleanor holds the list, meticulously checking off each item with the pencil she keeps tucked behind her ear, and Julia runs around each aisle, snatching what Eleanor says and holding it up for Sansa to determine if it’s the right one.

After getting the cart, they head towards the makeup first. They’ll do a circuit of the outer perimeter of the store, first, and then head into the interior. That’s always their battle plan. Sansa gets herself the new makeup brush she’s been needing and she lets the girls get a tube of Lip Smackers each – Eleanor choosing the watermelon flavor, as she always does, and Julia picking the root beer one.

Per the list, Julia runs ahead to get Jon another bottle of mouthwash, grabbing the blue because she knows her daddy likes the blue over the green, and Sansa checks and double-checks that it’s the no-alcohol kind. In the cleaning aisle, Julia grabs the dust wipes and Sansa tries not to get sad for not needing any more Swiffer dust refills since there is no more dog hair to clean up from the floors.

(They skip the pet section entirely.)

“Mama, can we buy the things we need so you can make that vegetarian chili this weekend?” Eleanor asks.

Though she is only eight, Eleanor is playing around with the possibility of becoming vegetarian.

“Great,” Jon grumbled after she had announced it to her parents. “Because meal times in this house aren’t enough of a circus already.”

“Stop,” Sansa slapped a hand into her husband’s stomach. “She’s experimenting.”

“She’s eight,” was Jon’s reply to that. “No experimenting in this house until at least twelve.”

But the vegetarian chili is something Sansa makes for dinner that the whole family eats without complaint. It’s really just four different kinds of beans, Ro-Tel, and tomato paste and juice dumped into a crockpot to cook for a few hours and the kids then bury it under as much shredded cheese as they can before Jon or Sansa or both of them tell them that they have enough.

“The amount of cheese you kids eat, I might as well buy our own cow,” Jon will say and all of the kids will laugh as if it’s the first time he’s saying it.

“Of course we can,” Sansa smiles at her. “I was going over our dinners this week and still haven’t decided what we’re going to be having Friday. Chili sounds perfect.”

Eleanor beams and then stops, taking her pencil, using a shelf to write down the ingredients onto the list that they will need though the recipe is so simple and Sansa has it memorized.

“Mama!”

Sansa turns to Julia, who is doing her best to hold a bag of Cuties mandarin oranges in her hands.

“We definitely need Cuties,” Sansa agrees with a smile and Julia happily comes skipping to their cart to stand on her toes and put them as carefully as she can with their other things.

Sansa used to be so mindful of what Brandon ate when he was younger and she was determined to have her son eat as much fresh fruit and vegetables as possible. With four more kids, Sansa is still like that though she admits she is a bit more relaxed. Brandon hadn’t had any sugar cereals until he was at least six. Now though, two of George’s favorite foods are Handi-Snacks and Cocoa Puffs.

She’s always meant to ask her mom if by the time Rickon came around, she became a bit more lackadaisical in her parenting. But even if Catelyn didn’t, Sansa is not going to beat herself up over it. Even with Cocoa Puffs, she makes sure her kids get plenty of fresh fruit and vegetables, which Sansa thinks she should be commended for because _very_ few kids actually want to eat celery and radishes, but hers do.

Down the baking aisle, they make sure to buy a few boxes of pudding and a bag of marshmallows for Eleanor and in the cereal aisle, they buy Rice Krispies and, of course, Cocoa Puffs. (They buy Cheerios four boxes at a time at Costco since Cheerios seem to have become a main staple of the Snow family diet).

“Mama, I can’t read this,” Eleanor says, pointing to the next thing on their list, waiting to be crossed off.

“Your father and his chicken scratch,” Sansa smiles and both girls giggle and Sansa takes the paper to try and decipher what her husband has added to the list.

She often wonders how the others on Jon’s work crews are able to read any of the notes he makes on the blueprints because they’ve been married for quite a few years and Sansa still has difficulty figuring out what Jon has written. Their doctor has better handwriting. Their youngest, four-year-old Max, has better handwriting.

When she figures it out, she feels herself grow very still.

_ <strike>Barbecue Chips</strike> _ _ Sour Cream + Onion_

It’s so innocent. It’s _so_ innocent. And yet, Sansa feels the breath stop in her chest, no longer exhaling or inhaling as she looks at her husband’s simple request. He wanted barbecue chips, but then changed his mind and now wants sour cream & onion. It’s no big deal, what so ever. It’s _nothing_.

And yet…

Her breathing begins coming out then, so quick and sharp, it hurts her chest and her lungs.

Ramsay had punched her once over chips.

She had bought the wrong kind. He had wanted barbecue and she hadn’t bought him those. She had bought him the sour cream & onion because those were usually the ones he wanted, but not that time. That time, he had wanted barbecue and Sansa had bought the wrong ones and when she came home and he saw, he had punched her right in the stomach; hard enough that she had fallen on her knees, gasping for breath and clutching her middle as tears stung her eyes.

(Thankfully, she hadn’t been pregnant with Brandon yet.)

“Here, mama,” Eleanor’s gentle voice cuts through the memory as Sansa still gasps, trying – and failing – to catch her breath.

The bottom shelf is flat and Eleanor gently pushes the bags of fun-size chips aside and then takes Sansa’s hand, pulling her over and then gently pushing her down so she’s sitting. Eleanor kneels in front of her and takes Sansa’s hands.

“Let’s do the finger exercises,” Eleanor than suggests and Sansa gasps in and out, but manages a head nod. Eleanor looks to her sister. “Take mama’s cell phone and call daddy.”

Julia nods and stands on her toes for Sansa’s purse where she is keeping it in the seat. She takes it out and types in the password – Sansa and Jon’s wedding anniversary; all of the kids knowing the password to unlock Sansa’s phone. “Just in case”, she’s told them.

“Is everything alright?”

Eleanor turns to see an older woman – a Target employee in her red shirt and khakis. “Excuse me. My mama is having a hard time breathing. Could we please have a bottle of water?” Eleanor asks politely.

The employee doesn’t even say anything before she’s turning and hurrying away.

Eleanor looks back to Sansa, who is still gasping. She takes mama’s hands in hers and then guides Sansa’s fingertips to tap three times against her thumbs; an exercise mama’s doctor, Dr. Tarth, has taught her and it helps calm her down and helps her breathing again.

“You are safe and you are loved,” Eleanor says on repeat as she helps Sansa tap her fingers. “You are safe and you are loved.”

“Hi, daddy. This is Julia,” Julia says into the phone as if Jon would have no idea which daughter this is. “We’re at Target and mama’s having a hard time breathing. Eleanor’s helping her with her fingers.” Julia stops to listen to whatever Jon is saying from the other end of the phone.

“You are safe and you are loved,” Sansa begins to be able to say the words, her fingers tapping on her thumbs. “You are safe and you are loved.”

Eleanor moves some more bags of chips aside so she can sit down next to Sansa, tapping her fingertips against her thumbs, too, in solidarity. This isn’t the first time mama has lost her breath. Daddy’s usually with her though and he helps her calm down again. Eleanor wants to be able to help mama this time. They’ve seen her do this exercise and know the words to say.

The Target employee returns with a bottle of ice cold water.

“Thank you,” Eleanor smiles at her and taking it, she twists it open and holds it, not offering it to mama yet. She needs to keep doing her finger exercises for a few more minutes.

“Do I need to call an ambulance?” The employee asks, staring down at Sansa as she taps her fingers and recites quietly to herself.

“No, we’ll be alright. Thank you for the water,” Eleanor says, polite as always.

The employee seems hesitant to leave, but finally, she does – slowly.

Julia comes to stand in front of Sansa, still with the phone to her ear. “We’re in the chip aisle.”

Finally, slowly, Sansa’s breathing begins to slow again and she is able to inhale and exhale at a somewhat normal pace and she exhales a shaky breath. She looks to Julia in front of her, who gives her a big smile, and then she looks to Eleanor sitting next to her, who smiles as well, and holds up the bottle of water.

“Here we are,” Eleanor declares with a smile and Sansa manages the smallest smile before taking the bottle for a small sip. “Here, mama.” Eleanor then takes her hand and places it on Eleanor’s chest so she can feel her steady heart. She’s seen daddy do the same thing, too.

Sansa feels tears in her eyes and she exhales another breath. All because of potato chips, she’s been slammed with the worst kind of memory and has had a panic attack in Target, in front of her two girls. But… neither look frightened. They look worried, yes, but they are both here, watching her, trying to keep her calm. The panic attacks have been few and far in between – not happening nearly as often as they used to – and she hates, _hates_ that she just had one in front of her daughters.

She also hates, _hates_ that her daughters seem like experts at helping her through an attack. They’re too young to know anything about these kinds of things.

“Come here,” Sansa says softly and puts the water bottle down so she can put one arm around Eleanor’s shoulders and then gently pull Julia to come stand between her legs. “My girls.” She kisses them both on the head. “My girls, what would I do without you?”

Both smile at that.

“Here, mama,” Julia holds out the phone.

Sansa can just imagine Jon’s own freak-out on the other end as she takes the phone.

“Hi, honey,” Sansa says and her breathing is completely normal now and she’s able to smile. Eleanor and Julia both giggle at her and she winks at them both.

“I’m in my truck and I’m on my way,” Jon says in a rush, sounding breathless himself.

Sansa knows there’s a part of her that wants Jon to come. He’ll swoop in like he always does and take care of her and make sure she’s perfectly fine and hover around her for a few hours. But then there’s the other part of her that knows that that’s the last thing she needs. These attacks, they don’t happen nearly as often anymore. Sometimes, she’ll go so long without having one, when she _does_ have one, she’s almost forgotten about them altogether. And Jon does what he does and he swoops in and saves her.

And sometimes, Sansa admits, she loves that.

But other times, she doesn’t need to be treated like glass. She’s _not_ glass. She’s still here and if she hadn’t broken so long ago, she’s not going to break now.

“I’m alright, Jon,” Sansa says to Jon.

“Sansa,” he begins to argue, to no surprise to her.

“I truly am, Jon. I promise and we’ll be home in a little bit. Eleanor and Julia are with me and it’s girl time. We can’t have boys interrupting girl time.” She smiles at her daughters as Eleanor and Julia absolutely beam brightly at their mama for her words.

…

**Author's Note:**

> This story has been stuck in my head for _weeks_ and I'm so happy I have finally been able to write it. Thank you very much for reading!


End file.
